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“In that case, there’s only one place to go,” said Gardener, glancing at Reilly, “if he’s right, they’re all at his place.”
Chapter Eighty
“Hello, Father,” said Jacqueline, “at last, we meet again.”
It was probably the first and only time in her life Jacqueline had sensed genuine concern in her father’s expression. It certainly wasn’t surprise.
He glanced around the film studio, probably assessing whether or not he had an advantage. He may well have, thought Jacqueline. After all, his only competition was his daughter, and her aunt Anei, who was currently sitting opposite Jacqueline, in the director’s chair to his right, with her hands in her pockets.
Summers turned to Jacqueline and made a move toward her. His arms were spread openly, as if welcoming her but, as long as he had the letter opener in one of them, he would be a danger.
“Jacqueline, Anei, it’s so good to see you both.”
“Don’t you dare come near me!” she spat venomously; a warning finger raised. From behind her back, she brought the syringe into view, pressing the plunger: the clear liquid inside jettisoned out.
Summers stepped back, maintaining his position at the bottom of the stairs, without further comment. The tension could have been cut with a knife.
Jacqueline studied her father. He had changed little since she’d last seen him, which was more than twenty years ago. His face had aged accordingly. What most people shrugged off as laughter lines could only be crevices of guilt, following a life of fraud and deception and, most likely, debauchery. He was dressed in a crumpled grey suit with a white shirt and a grey tie. He smelled of stale sweat.
“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
Her father bore a puzzled expression. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
Anei rolled her eyes and groaned.
“Don’t patronize me! You didn’t stop at me, did you? Raping and defiling your own daughter wasn’t enough for you.” Jacqueline fought to keep her emotions under control. Feelings she had harboured for years. It would be so easy to lose it now. But she couldn’t allow the reptile who had claimed to be her father the satisfaction of seeing that happen. “In fact, it was just the start. You had whetted your appetite with me.”
“Jacqueline, please.”
Here it is, she thought, the personality change. He’d obviously decided that ignorance wasn’t going to work. His next tactic would be sympathy. She knew only too well, even after all these years, that once he realized all was lost, he would become angry. Perhaps he would resort to violence.
“Jacqueline, please listen to me. You have to understand, we were drunk, we didn’t know what we were doing.”
“Don’t you dare use that excuse on me! You knew perfectly well what you were doing.”
“No, Jacqueline, we didn’t...” He eased himself away from the bottom step.
“Stay where you are!”
She found it hard to believe one person could store up so much hatred for another. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Not once did you stop to think about me. About how I felt.”
Jacqueline trembled with rage. She felt cold, hollow. Her insides churned. She thought she would be sick as she struggled desperately to hold on to her dignity. “I was too young to realize what you were doing when you first started. How convenient my mother’s death must have been. You had the perfect excuse. You could sleep with your little girl whenever you wanted. Because your wife had died, you used your daughter for comfort.
“You insisted it would be our little secret, that we were doing nothing wrong. At first, I suppose I thought there was no harm. It was just a cuddle. It didn’t take you very long to start touching, though, did it? Our little secret you said, yet again.”
“Jacqueline, please…”
“Shut up! You told me everything we did was natural, that every father and daughter did it.” Jacqueline shuddered. “My mother had died, and all you could do was abuse me.
“Did you ever love my mother? Have you ever loved anyone but yourself? You have no idea how I felt. I desperately wanted to tell someone. Even at that young age, I didn’t think it was right. Do you know how unlucky I was? I had one friend at school.”
She thought back to that day, the time when she’d finally decided to confide in Jayne. Jacqueline could still picture her friend’s long, black, braided hair, the pretty blue eyes, her wide, innocent smile. How her life had almost crumbled with her friend’s answer.
“Eventually, I found the courage to tell her. And do you know what she said? She told me her father did it to her.
“You disgust me! What you couldn’t get from your wife, you took from me. I was ten years old. I needed comfort. I wanted reassurance that I could make it. I needed you because I had no mother. And what did you do?”
“It wasn’t like that,” he replied, as if her accusations were unfounded.
